


even angels have their wicked schemes (and you take that to new extremes)

by windsweptfic



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Hard Dub-Con, Herc has lots of guilt issues, Incest, Light Bondage, M/M, Powerplay, and he can't deny Chuck anything, sub!Herc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 01:54:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windsweptfic/pseuds/windsweptfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Chuck wields the word 'dad' like a weapon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	even angels have their wicked schemes (and you take that to new extremes)

**Author's Note:**

> Note: in the novelization of the movie, it's mentioned that before the Jaeger program, early on in the war, the fourth kaiju to emerge from the breach attacked Sydney. The Hansens were living there at the time. When he heard that they were going to drop a nuke on the kaiju, Herc took a helicopter into the city - but he was only able to make it to either his wife or his ten year old son before the detonation. 
> 
> He chose Chuck, and Chuck hasn't forgiven him since.

"What took you so long?"

Herc paused warily in the doorway. 

The Hong Kong Shatterdome was a little more cramped than their old housings in Sydney; being on the doorstep of the Breach necessitated a speed of construction that didn't allow for niceties. Standard Ranger quarters consisted of a small bedroom with an even smaller attached bathroom, the space from the hall entry to bathroom door six feet at best, with the bed stationed in between. 

Just six feet and a bed that separated Herc from his son. 

"Stacker wanted to check in with the science team," he replied, closing the hatch carefully behind him. Chuck leaned against the bathroom door jamb, gaze inscrutable. Max was nowhere to be found. "Gottlieb's predicting a double event happening soon."

Chuck acknowledged the information with a brief nod, his eyes sweeping up and down Herc's body. Herc pulled off his jacket slowly, deliberately; prey in a hunter's sights. He had barely laid it over the back of the lone chair in the room when Chuck spoke again.

"Come here."

Herc's shoulders sagged.

There were a thousand reasons why he shouldn't. The now-familiar voice in the back of his head listed them off, one by one. It wasn't healthy. It wasn't right. It should never have started in the first place, and it sure as hell shouldn't be allowed to continue.

"Please."

Sing-song, melodic. Knowing. It wasn't a request--it was an expectation, borne of learning just what to say; just what bruises to prod.

Herc obeyed.

"Was that so hard?" Chuck murmured, reaching out as soon as he stepped into range. He flicked open Herc's vest, fingering the placket of his henley beneath, the top button already undone. Herc tensed when nimble fingers moved to unbutton the rest and got a flashing grin of white, even teeth. 

"Probably better if you don't answer that," Chuck said agreeably. He walked his fingers up Herc's sternum, through curled red chest hair to fit his palm against the base of his throat, applying just the slightest, barest amount of pressure. Herc's breath hitched.

Then Chuck took hold of the chain of his dogtags and yanked him into a hard, demanding kiss. 

The sharp nip of teeth in his bottom lip drew blood almost immediately. Herc grunted as he was slammed against the nearest wall; his hands jerked up instinctively to fight. But he halted the motion halfway, fingers curling uselessly around Chuck's elbow instead as his mouth was ravaged by the implacable press of lips and teeth and tongue. A knee pressed up firmly between his legs and he sucked in a shaky gasp of air. When Chuck pulled away the grin was back in place, fierce and triumphant.

"C'mon," he purred, stepping back to leave Herc panting and trembling against the wall. "Let me see you. Come on."

Herc swallowed convulsively. But he did as he was asked _(told)_ , toeing off his boots and socks, nudging them under the bed. Chuck watched with his arms folded across his chest and one eyebrow lifted in amusement, indulgently allowing the delay. When Herc finally pulled off both his shirts, one after the other, Chuck raised one hand to halt him. He froze with his hands resignedly on his belt buckle, looking up as Chuck stepped forward, back into his space, to nuzzle at his scarred collarbone.

"Let me take care of that," Chuck murmured. He thumbed open the clasp, sliding the belt from Herc's hips. He leaned in close to breathe against his ear. "Now turn around."

"Chuck," Herc whispered, finally, the name half-stuck in his throat. This wasn't right. It wasn't right, they shouldn't do this, he shouldn't do this, he shouldn't _allow it--_

He felt Chuck's lips curve against his skin.

_"Please."_

Herc turned around. 

The rough bite of rawhide around his wrists was familiar by now, as was the sharp cinch as Chuck fastened the belt just this side of too tight. A warm hand rested between his shoulder blades, pushing him gently forward until his forehead rested against the wall, head bowed down low.

"See, now?" Chuck asked, voice breathy, the beat of his heart rapid and excited against Herc's back as he pressed flush against him. "Isn't that better, dad?"

Herc flinched. Chuck laughed quietly, pressing an open-mouth kiss against his neck. 

"Dad."

Another flinch; another kiss. 

"Dad."

A sharp bite to his shoulder.

_"Dad."_

"Please," Herc rasped brokenly. "Chuck, please--"

"Shh." Chuck's touches turned gentle, soothing. He turned Herc around, reaching up to brush his thumb across his cheek; rubbing over the smooth, dry skin beneath glittering eyes. "Shh, it's alright."

Herc shook his head, determinedly lowering his gaze. Chuck's fingers caressed his jaw, trailing down his neck and chest until he could get a grip on Herc's tags. He stepped backward, pulling Herc with him until Chuck was able to sit down on the edge of the bed, Herc in between his legs. His hands resumed their mapping, tracing over the scars writ across Herc's torso. 

"This one's mine," Chuck murmured, touching a puckered white slash on his side. _(Ceramander, Hawaii; one of their earlier kills. A joint op with Coyote Tango that got a little too close.)_

"And this one." _(Hound, Auckland. More recent, more familiar, the scar still pink and the memory still fresh.)_

Chuck pressed his fingernails into a webbing of old burn scarring over Herc's hip, crescents imprinting into his skin.

"And this one..."

_(Scissure. Sydney. No Jaeger, then. Just the RAAF. Just a Kiowa helicopter that was too slow to be in two places at once.)_

"They're all yours, Chuck," Herc said softly. "All of them." 

"Yes," Chuck agreed, pulling his hand away, his fingernails tipped in red. "They're all mine. Because you're mine. Because you were there when I needed you."

_(There for you, but not for--)_

"Kneel for me," Chuck breathed.

Herc knelt. 

"You're always so good to me, aren't you?" Chuck said gently, combing his fingers through Herc's hair with one hand as the other reached for his own belt. "You've always tried your damndest to do right by me, to be there for me. Haven't you?"

Herc nodded wordlessly, eyes glittering with unshed tears. He had. He _had._

"That's right," Chuck murmured. He shoved down his boxers and trousers, just far enough to pull out his cock. He gave it a few firm, indolent strokes, shivering delightedly when he rubbed his thumb over the head. "You would do anything for me, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," Herc whispered hoarsely.

Chuck smiled down at him, beatific and benign.

"Suck."

Herc's eyelids slipped shut. Wetness gathered in the corners of his eyes as he leaned forward obediently, Chuck's hand a gentle pressure on the back of his head as he parted his lips for hot, salty skin.

"So good to me," Chuck whispered. "You give me everything I need, don't you, dad?"

Herc let out a sob, the sound soft and strangled through the slick noise of spit on skin. Dampness moistened his cheeks.

He tried.

_He tried._

**Author's Note:**

> oh god what is this what have I done
> 
> Coming out of the theater I had little interest in Chuck/Herc (and still do, cos omg Stacker/Herc please), but then. Then there was [this prompt](http://pacificrimkink.livejournal.com/350.html?thread=1249118#t1249118). It asked for Chuck/sub!Herc, but I then took the aside of _'in my head asshole!Chuck can blame trip his dad into sex'_ and ran with it into the bushes and through dark alleys and ended up somewhere in the forest of SOBWHYBABIES. 
> 
> ...I HAVE LOTS OF HANSEN FAMILY FEELS AND THIS IS WHAT THEY LOOK LIKE WHEN THEY GO MEAN AND DARK OKAY.
> 
> Title from Skylar Grey's 'Love the Way You Lie'.


End file.
